...what could possibly go wrong, he said!
Well, it all started so well as we bowled along towards La Roche-sur-Yon, making good progress south towards La Rochelle. Until we hit one of those ambiguous ‘route barrée’ signs that might mean you can wiggle around and get to where you are going – or not!
Heading south of Luçon we figured we’d be able to wiggle around Marans, where the road was blocked. But we hadn’t anticipated just how difficult, and slow, it would be… So with Mrs B at the wheel and Mr B on the phone to reception at Camping Municipal Le Remondeau in la Courade-sur-Mer (thanks Tony and Jonquil!) we were mightily relieved to hear that they operated a late arrival box, should we not make it by 1800. With Mrs B taking no prisoners on the road, we arrived at 1758, to be met by the smiling receptionist that Mr B had been in conversation with – phew!
We were allocated a pitch at the top end of the site in the dunes – and for the first time ever, we were instructed to make sure we only parked on the ‘tapis’ which we understood to mean carpet. Bewildered why we would be parking on carpet, and thinking it may be loosely used to describe some form of hard standing material, it all became clear as we drove past the other pitches on the way to ours: each pitch was provided with strips of sand mats, which you can make out in the photo below:
After setting up camp Babley for what we guessed might be a stay of longer than three days, having seen the beach and been given a booklet about the numerous cycle-ways on the island; we were treated to a very peaceful starry night, with the sound of the Atlantic waves washing gently on the shore the other side of the dunes we were on – perfect!
And what a beach! Perfect for strolling on and miles in either direction…
… and just right for a relaxing day reading and strolling – which we are well practised in perfecting!
One of the things we had said we would try for on this trip, was to get to see some live music, having really enjoyed Jean-Paul Albert in Concarneau on our last trip. And when Mr B returned from exploring the local shops and excitedly announced that there was an Irish band playing Celtic music at a nearby bar, Mrs B was imagining we would be on for something similar. So when Mr B clarified that it was a Celtic metal band, and expectations had been recalibrated, we decided we would give it a go!
Arriving at the Le Ragoteur bar to the sound of loud and raucous pub-rock music, we settled in to appreciate the Irish/Celtic spin that had been advertised. With one of the musicians alternating between fiddle and bouzouki, it looked promising…
… although the cowboy hat did have us wondering… Eventually the fluent French spoken by all the musicians, and the Franglais pronunciation of a lot of the English language lyrics gave the game away: Three Beers Later is actually a French pub rock band, with dress and musical leanings towards the Celtic! And although not quite what we had expected, it was a great evening, with lots of the locals (who had dressed appropriately) getting properly stuck in…
With the band showing no signs of stopping as midnight approached, we headed back to Evie with our ears ringing and our faces smiling at such a fun night!
As we had driven up the island towards our site at La Couarade, we saw what looked suspiciously like a Vauban fort, having been lucky enough to have camped inside the one at Blaye, further down the coast on a previous visit. Sure enough, St Martin de Ré was indeed an enclosed Vauban fort, built to keep those pesky English at bay in the late 1600s! And with what looked like an interesting cycle path across the salt pans to get there, we decided to explore by bike and make a day of it.
With the sun shining we were soon out on the salt flats, a very otherworldly landscape with the cycle trails zigzagging across the tidal marais…
...with artisan salt sellers touting their wares from self service honesty box shacks…
...running alongside the seashore on a number of occasions…
...and a number of seafood shacks, some more upmarket than others…
...until we reached one of the entrance gates…
The fort walls were designed to protect the town itself and once the other side of the gate, we found ourselves amongst some very picturesque backstreets…
...as well as the touristy areas near the port, where we found this trousered donkey (once used to protect their legs from insect bites when working in the marshes, now maintained to entertain the visitors)…
Having swerved the seafood shacks on our ride into the town for another day, we decided to have a look instead for a culinary alternative – and we quickly set our sights on a busy café in the covered market offering galettes. Mr B was soon chatting to the owner when she asked whether he was sure he wanted andouille in his (pork chitterlings and tripe – he did!)…
...and with a bottle of Breton cider to wash the galettes down…
...we were then persuaded to have a sweet crêpe for dessert. It would have been rude to say no of course, so our after lunch activities took on a more leisurely pace, taking time to admire the views from the sea wall…
...consider whether we had time for the Ernest Cognacq art and history museum…
...seeking shade by the lighthouse to let lunch go down…
...before mounting up and riding further around the fort walls where we discovered this great value Aire alongside the municipal campsite in the battlements…
...and some actual donkeys (without trousers) just outside the walls of the prison (once used for holding prisoners before they were sent off to the overseas penal colonies, now just a regular gaol)…
As we cycled back to the campsite we chatted about how great France appears to be at accommodating campers inside historical monuments – part of the ‘access for the people’ approach of the municipalities to camping that whilst in decline in some areas, still seems to be going strong in others! We also chatted about how we must make sure, after some serious beach time of course, to get organised for a seafood adventure out on the salt flats…
S&J
06.10.25
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